Words
by HairSprayFashionista
Summary: Word of the day calendar provides prompts for a week long series of drabbles.
1. Monday

**If Spock and Nyota had a word of the day calendar...which totally seems like something they would have to me....**

**MONDAY**

**sinuous **_, adjective: _characterized by many turns or curves; winding.

Consultation of his internal clock indicated the current time to be 0500 hours. Logically, now that he was awake, required no more sleep, and had many tasks to accomplish in the day ahead he should, in accordance with his normal schedule, rise from his bed and after returning it to its pristine condition leave his sleeping quarters to cleanse himself.

_However,_ he thought to himself as he faced the mass hidden in shadows and valleys of the bedding, _today is not like any other day_. _ Today, _he thought, _is the first day that I wake to her. Here in my quarters. _Sliding closer to her cool frame gently, so as not to disturb her, he noted, with some approval, if he was honest with himself, the bite mark on the back of her neck.

Would he be remiss in demanding that she wear her hair up today so that it would be visible to all? Perhaps even a step farther then her usual ponytail. How had she referred to his preferred method of her styling her long silky mane? Ah, yes, a bun. Most satisfactory. Allowing him to see the graceful shape of her elongated neck which mimicked the **sinuous** soft lines of those parts of her anatomy which no one, but he had ever seen since she had reached physical maturity.

Those parts of her no one would ever see. Even if it meant he had to revert to the ancient custom of fighting for mates to the death. He would make sure of it. Especially Cadet Kirk. A most annoying subject. As most Terrans on the Command track were. It seemed nearly a requirement to be filled with hubris to become a Captain and Cadet Kirk seemed not only to meet that particular requirement, but to exceed it.

He soothed his mind with the logical conclusion that no matter how good the intentions of a hero, in the end, his hubris would ultimately be his downfall and the fall from grace seemed not only far but also rather permanent. Many Terrans, including Jim Kirk, held a belief in the afterlife that was startlingly strong in its either/or destinations with little or no room for movement between the two choices.

Cadet Kirk's deity seemed to be referred to as Father and required extensive repentance of bad deeds termed as sin. Absolution of those sins was offered by men who abstained from physical excess of any kind and wore a black and white uniform. Interesting in the fact that this religion seemed black and white in interpretation of right and wrong as well. The cadet could often be seen forming a sign of a plus or what Terrans referred to as a cross on his person and he had heard discussion of "sacrament" which to the best of his knowledge including eating a flavorless wafer substance, termed bread, and drinking fermented grape juice, termed wine.

The followers believed these to be the embodiment of the blood and body of the group's savior. A Jesus Christ, or Jesus of Nazarene. Cadet Kirk seemed to spend an inordinately large amount of time in the stall used for profession of guilt and acceptance of repentance. After studying Terran religions for many years he was aware that in this set of beliefs there was a clever creature who had been cast out of heaven and into an abyss of heat and fire for what he could best describe as mutiny. The residence of this creature was now where those who disobeyed the God were sent to atone for their sins through eternity.

Gently pulling Nyota's shoulder to turn her to face him, he wondered absently, as he slid into her moist center while simultaneously kissing her awake, if Cadet Kirk could currently see him defiling this angel if he would think Spock himself this Devil and Vulcan the Hell he seemed so determined to avoid.

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**sinuous **_, adjective: _characterized by graceful curving movements.

Logically it was not necessary for him to attend the talent show. Nyota had invited him and even though they had been dating for several months according to the Terran calendar it in no way obligated him to attend. Except, Nyota was a human, not a Vulcan.

On Vulcan it was not necessary to go to an event for your bond mate until you were fully bonded. Prior to the bonding, most couples led wholly separate lives and often after a bonding ceremony the only time the couple came together was for Pon Farr, to produce offspring, or official matters of state.

As Spock stepped into the auditorium he noticed Captain Pike speaking with several cadets and Admiral Prescott. Admiral Prescott moved to speak with an Professor Morris from the Engineering Department. Moving towards the group he paused within range of notice, but not so close as to invite himself into the on going conversation.

"Spock, you're here! I was beginning to think you might be late." Captain Pike broke from the conversation to acknowledge Spock's presence first.

"I have over two minutes to spare Captain Pike. I am early." Pike shook his head and Spock ignored the stares of awe from the cadets in front of him.

"Spock, this is Cadet Nealson, Cadet Tomlins, and Cadet Chekov." All of the Cadets greeted Spock and turned to take their leave of the Captain and Lieutenant.

"Cadet Chekov." The smaller boy, obviously allowed into Star Fleet early for extraordinary intelligence, with the still round face of a boy not yet a man turned to the tall stoic Vulcan with eyes wide in fear.

"Y-Y-Yes, Sir?" Spock tilted his head slightly as if studying the cadet for a time.

"In Star Fleet, regardless of our position or title we are all communicators. With each other, Federation planets, planets not currently in the Federation, and civilizations we have yet to discover. I am confident that you are aware of your accent and the difficulty one might have in understanding you. It is therefore suggested that you practice many languages and attempt to remedy the problem. Although I teach in the Science Curriculum I am sure that anyone in the Xenolinguistics Department would not view your accent as an asset." Spock delivered the line and watched as the stunned Russian boy and two other cadets processed his speech.

Contrary to popular ,the fact that Spock did not show emotion helped when he had to deliver corrections or criticisms of this nature. Most Humans, he found, disliked getting criticisms and often felt that it was due to dislike that they were being "picked on." For Spock, however, since it was a generally widely held belief that he was emotionless therefore, could not like things he could not NOT like things so his corrections were usually seen as emotionless and driven from pure fact.

The lights dimmed in the room and Spock took his seat next to a noticeably amused Christopher Pike. Act after act of Star Fleet's finest showed their skills learned from their home planets and continents to their instructors and fellow classmates. Spock, who typically expected perfection in any performance, especially one in front of an audience of this magnitude was pleasantly entertained by a Cadet Kim's singing and Nyota's roommate Gaila's Orion Slave Dance, even with the pheromone suppressors to keep the male audience from mauling each other for her he could sense nearly three quarters of the males in attendance state of arousal.

Finally Nyota took the stage. She was with another cadet. A male cadet. A song began and Nyota in all white with her partner in black pants and an unbuttoned white dress shirt performed a dance supposed to simulate the growing pains of their marriage. A bed was involved. Spock was pissed.

There was no other way to describe it. If he had his way he would storm the stage and rip that cadet's head off. No one touched Nyota that way. Even if it was simply for a performance. The **sinuous** movement of Nyota's body against the other cadet's forced Spock to clasp his hands tightly together in his lap. Obviously one bite mark was not enough.

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**sinuous **_, adjective: _not direct; devious.

Absentmindedly trailing her fingers across Spock's stomach Nyota yawned tiredly.

"If you are tired Nyota, why do you not sleep?" Spock's questions always sounded like suggestions to Nyota and this was no different. She shrugged her shoulders without glancing up at him.

"I'm waiting for you." Spock did not pause in his work on the PADD in front of him.

"That is illogical. Vulcans need less sleep than Humans. That information coupled with the fact that I am a professor and you have yet to receive your diploma from Star Fleet allows me certain privileges that you are currently not at liberty to partake of. Such as a lack of exams." Nyota did not respond, but Spock did not repeat himself. He knew that she had heard him and if Nyota chose to act irrationally and it proved detrimental to her grades or position at the top of her class then she would be the one who had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

"They're almost gone...._finally_...." Spock heard Nyota mumble to herself.

"What are almost gone?" Nyota didn't respond verbally but instead moved Spock's hand to the back of her neck. The bite that had once been there along with the bites on her breasts and thighs had nearly faded completely now.

Removed from the situation Spock could admit that he may have overreacted, perhaps even been emotional, in his response to the dance at the talent show several weeks ago. He had nearly forcibly removed her after the performances had concluded. Barely clearing the door to his quarters, he had ripped her dress and bit her, hard, probably six or seven times over her breasts and thighs.

"I do apologize for my loss of control." Spock placed the PADD down and looked into Nyota's eyes. She rolled her eyes and raised her left hand in a lackadaisical waving motion to indicate the little affect of the loss of control on her emotional state.

"It wasn't anything I couldn't handle. The worse part was all the questions and comments." Spock's interest was now peaked. He hadn't been aware there had been inquiries as to the bite marks. He raised his eyebrow which Nyota now recognized as a cue of interest and a signal to elaborate on her previous statement.

"Jim...I mean, Cadet Kirk, sits behind me in Advanced Physics and he was always asking about the bite on the back of my neck. Of course, since all he thinks about is sex it usually devolved into a debate on how freaky I must be if I was into biting of this magnitude and if I would let some surely less talented man bite me then what might I agree to with him making me moan." Nyota rolled her eyes at the ludicrousness of the statement, but Spock's whole being was focused on the fact that Cadet Kirk had sexually propositioned Nyota again. He had better be in confession right now and even that might not save his soul if he continued on this path.

"Then, you know Cadet Chekov? Little Russian kid? Cutest accent you ever heard? Well, anyway, we went to the beach, Leo, Chekov, whose name is Pavel by the way, Gaila and of course, Jim invited himself along. Well, my bathing suit, naturally being a two piece because who wants their tummy to be lighter than the rest of them, didn't really cover my thighs or one of the bites on my breast. Well, Chekov was so concerned and he had some sort of ointment from Russia that he ran back to his dorm and brought for me to try. I didn't want it under my nails. Leo was in the water with Gaila and there was no way I was going to let Kirk touch me so Chekov helped me rub the ointment onto the bites, carefully so that I didn't get sand..." Nyota's narrative was cut off by a fierce growl and a yank of her head to the side so that a set of teeth, with canines nearly as sharp as an animal's, sank into the muscle on the left side of her neck.

The bites continued across her shoulder and one on her left wrist. When he had exhausted the animal desire Spock moved off of Nyota and laid beside her. Feeling, yes, _feeling_, remorseful for his second loss of control, but unable to feel remorse for the action of biting her itself. After several heartbeats, she released a breathy moan.

"_Finally_, I wondered how many men I was going to have to lie about to get you to do that." Spock looked at Nyota in shock. She lied. **Sinuous** little creature.

"That biting is such a turn on." She moaned and writhed deeper into the sheets on their bed.

"Fascinating."

**REVIEWS = LOVE :)**


	2. Tuesday

**THANK EVERYONE SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS. I CAN'T LIST THEM ALL HERE, BUT CAN I JUST SAY THAT REALLY MAKE IT WORTHWHILE. REMEMBER, THESE ARE NOT NECESSARILY CONNECTED TO OTHER DRABBLES IN THIS SERIES THERFORE, CONTINUITY OF TIME IS NOT NECESSARY.**

**OH, AND I EDITED SOME MISTAKES OUT OF THE FIRST CHAPTER! :) **

**TUESDAY**

**glaucous**_, adjective:_ 1a : of a pale yellow-green color.

Lists. Habits. Schedules. These were the things that made sense to Spock therefore, logically, these were the pieces that when fit together completed the puzzle of his life. Deviations from schedules or plans did not please the half-Vulcan Science Officer.

Therefore, when the chime signaled the presence of an early morning visitor to his quarters he was not pleased with the disturbance it caused to his usual routine. Answering the chime did not soothe his displeasure but rather heightened it. He found the guilty party was Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, Chief Medical Officer onboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, and the loudest objector to Spock's relationship with Nyota Uhura.

"Doctor McCoy, why have you arrived unannounced at my quarters seven minutes prior to the beginning of my shift?" McCoy seemed to be twisting a folder with what Spock had learned was nervousness.

"I'm not here to see you. I'm looking for Uhura." Spock felt a certain satisfaction in the fact that no one called Nyota by her given name. Excluding himself. He raised a questioning eyebrow at the surly man facing him.

"Nyota is not here. She has already reported to the bridge for duty. Can this wait until she is relieved at 0400 hours?" McCoy seemed to be attempting to see around Spock into the living quarters he shared with his bond mate. Spock only referred to Nyota as his wife in the presence of Terrans.

While other alien lifeforms understood the serious connection between a Vulcan and their bond mate Terrans, it seemed, had difficulty grasping the concept. Using the term "wife" while in the presence of Earth humans seemed to quell the attempts to steal Nyota from him. Not that he would allow that to ever happen regardless of the title used.

"Doctor, I assure you, Nyota is not here. Perhaps you could tell me the message and I could relay it to her." McCoy took a large step back from Spock trying to gauge the distance the long Vulcan limbs could reach. Spock was surprised. His interest piqued. What was so secret that he must be kept from knowing? He had not attempted to remove the folder from the doctor's hands, however, the doctor was behaving as a wild animal would if their limited food source was in danger.

"No, it can't wait and no, I can't give you the news. Hobgoblin husband or not this is private. Her medical file can only be released to you in life or death situations." Spock felt himself relax. Oddly, he hadn't known he was tensed until McCoy declared that the situation did not include peril to Nyota's continued existence. Excellent.

"Indeed. Since, it seems, it is vital that you report this information to my bond mate and I must report for duty we may ride the turbo lift together." McCoy followed behind and watched the hands clasped behind the back. Posture perfectly erect and head held high. Silence reigned in the turbo lift until the doctor and science officer entered the bridge.

"Oh! No one told me it was twins day. Quick, Lieutenant Uhura, change into a command gold dress and we can be twins too!" Jim Kirk taunted as Spock and McCoy entered the bridge together.

Most disturbing was Nyota's response to the Captain's request.

"Okay...I mean, yes sir." She rose gently from her position and moved towards the doors slowly and lurchingly as if she was desperately trying to keep her footing on a yacht in a bad storm.

"Ummm, are you okay Uhura? Bones, is she okay?" Spock expected one of the doctor's over used and grumpy insertions of something to the effect of,_ Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a mind reader. Let me run some tests first. _However, instead, the doctor quickly crossed to Nyota and assisted her to the doors.

"I'll have her back soon Jim. Nothing a couple hypos can't set right." Tossing a grin in the Captain's direction McCoy and Nyota exited the bridge at a slow and calculated post. Spock felt their bond shut down. Nyota was forcing him out of her mind. Although it was painful to feel her pull away from him most painful of all was the realization that unless something were seriously remiss then she would not close off their bond. Had McCoy lied about Nyota's health?

Spock had to stifle his urges to run to the trubo lift when Nurse Chapel summoned him to the sick bay. He entered and found Nyota resting peacefully on one of the beds. Crossing to her bed he allowed himself the indulgence of brushing his fingers across her pulse. She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"Hey." Spock, never seeing the need for small talk felt he should get to the diagnosis of her condition so that he and Nyota may face the difficulties that followed with logic and reason. His belief in following the logical path to receive the correct conclusion was all that was keeping him upright here next to her. Her skin was strikingly **glaucous **in tone and knowing that she was normally a warm brown like the earth of her homeland he fought the panic threatening to spill into his voice.

"McCoy informed me that I am only at liberty to view your medical records if you are close to death. Since he has not allowed me to access them I assume that you are not dying." Nyota smiled and with effort sat up in the bed.

"No, adun, I am not dying. On the contrary, I am bringing a new life into the world. A child. Your child." Spock considered those words. Rolled them in his mind. Translated them into every language he was fluent in, then translated them into the ones he was converstional in and thought that whether it was in Vulcan, French, Trill, Orion, or Klingon that sentence was the most beautiful he had ever heard.

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**glaucous**_, adjective: _1b: of a light bluish-gray or bluish-white color.

The screaming in his head had stopped completely. She had lost the battle against exhaustion. 1 day, 9 hours, 47 minutes, and 13 seconds into the delivery a child of Spock and Nyota had entered the universe. His mother forced herself to look at his face and promptly fell into an exhaused sleep. Spock noticed two things immediately about his son. The first being that he did not cry. He had initially worried as to whether his soon had survived the long and exhausting labor and had questioned McCoy.

"Doctor, why does he not cry?" McCoy furrowed his brow as he cleaned the **glaucous** substance from the child with a mini sonic shower device.

"How should I know what the tiny hobgoblin is thinkin'? He's fine. Probably figuring out warp factors or some other logical crap. You want me to make him cry?" Spock's face remained impassive.

"That will not be necessary doctor." McCoy handed the baby off to the nurse and returned to Nyota for the necessary endings of the labor. Striding over to the stoic father the nurse deposited the baby in his arms.

"No doubt about the paternity with this one." Spock was about to comment on the illogical nature of that statement when he noticed the second detail of his son. He looked entirely like his father. He did not resemble his beloved Nyota in any feature. Even his skin was the emerald dusted alabaster of Spock. Spock was torn between pride and love for the sharply pointed ears and full head of jet black straight hair and shame and sadness for Nyota when she saw him and found none of herself there.

Coming back to the room he heard McCoy discussing with Nyota the baby. Glancing down at the child Spock noticed Amanda Grayson's eyes staring up at him. Analyzing his father and his surroundings. A keen intellect and attention to detail. If Spock was fully human he would have laughed out loud with happiness. Being half-Vulcan, the left side of his lips quirked up almost imperceptibly.

"He's fine, he's fine, but I don't know how he did it. If I didn't deliver him myself I'd have doubts that you were his mother. He looks just like the Vulcan." He heard Nyota groan in discomfort and then felt her happiness. She was not disappointed.

"As long as he's healthy Leonard I don't care if he looks like Keenser." Moving to the bed of his adun'a Spock lowered their child so that Nyota could see him.

"I, however, would have objections."

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**glaucous**_, adjective:_ 2: having a powdery or waxy coating that gives a frosted appearance and tends to rub off.

Dinner was the favorite time in the Spock household. Nyota had prepared her husband and son's favorite dish. A spicy vegetarian curry. It was a lot harder than it sounded with a replicator and very small kitchen, but Nyota Uhura always got her way. Eventually. Spock was taking the few moments opportunity before dinner to read new science articles, as was his custom.

The door to their quarters slid open to reveal their son returning from his first day of classes on the Enterprise.

"Greetings sa-mekh. Greetings ko-mekh." Nyota smiled at her son and Spock placed his PADD on the table to provide his son with his full attention.

"Sa-fu, did you enjoy your classes?" The child took a moment to think before he responded. Although outwardly he appeared to be nearly entirely Vulcan he was intellectually a mix of his parents. Having the very intelligent Nyota Uhura for a mother provided him with much the same result that Spock received from having Dr. Amanda Grayson as his mother. He was extremely gifted by any human standard and definitely smart enough to be an intelligent Vulcan, but the child was steadfast and sure and even at only five Terran years he always weighed his responses before he spoke.

"Much of the curriculum being taught I have already learned. This leaves me time to pursue other interests, but I cannot help but wonder if I will eventually become bored. If my boredom results in actions that disrupt children around me then it would be a hindrance to not only my learning but to others as well. However, I find that I am unable to find a logical conclusion to the conundrum." Spock nodded encouragingly to his son.

"Tych'al, I will compose a curriculum of subjects for you to study. I will request, due to special circumstances, that you be allowed to be privately tutored. Your mother and I will instruct you."

"Yes sa-mekh. That is an agreeable solution." Nyota, being an expert at reading her child, as so many mothers are pushed further.

"What else is troubling you Tych'al?" The child swallowed his bite of rice and fixed his parents with his large brown eyes.

"Today, we were allowed to enter Helmsman Sulu's garden in order to study the vegetation he cultivates. There was a most interesting **glaucous** plant. Several of the children touched it and everywhere the substance came into contact with they changed colors. Similar to rays of light through a prism. If I study privately with you, sa-mekh, although my intelligence will undoubtedly benefit I question whether I would miss the garden."

Spock studied his son for several moments. Seeing so much of himself in the child and not simply in appearance. Being much alike in temprament Spock knew how much a denial of the request to continue with the garden outings would disappoint the child, but that due to loyalty to his father he would never voice that displeasure.

"I suggest, then, that along with your private studies you attend the group class that allows you to experience the garden that you find so fascinating, my son." Tych'al did the most un-Vulcan like thing he had done all evening and smiled at his father.

"Affirmative father."

**REVIEWS! YAY! NOTE: I KNOW THAT TYCH'AL IS ONLY FIVE BUT I FEEL HAVING SPOCK FOR A FATHER WOULD MAKE ANY CHILD A GENIUS. HOPE IT DOESN'T RUIN IT TOO MUCH FOR YOU. REMEMBER HE'S NOT A HUMAN! **


	3. Wednesday

**THE REVIEWS HAVE BEEN KINDER THAN KIND. I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE STILL ENJOYING. IT'S HARD TO PROMPT MYSELF OFF OF WORDS THAT I DON'T GET TO CHOOSE SO, THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT.**

**FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO WERE CONCERNED WITH THE CHARACTERIZATION OF MCCOY IN CHAPTER TWO I WANT TO ASSURE YOU THAT I LOVE BONES! HE'S NOT RACIST. HE JUST DOESN'T LIKE SPOCK. WHY? I DON'T KNOW. BECAUSE HE'S AN OLD SOUTHERN DOG AND YA CAN'T TEACH HIM NEW TRICKS. EVERYONE HAS TO NOT LIKE SOMEONE AND FOR MCCOY THAT PERSON IS SPOCK. :)**

**REMEMBER, NO CONTINUITY. **

**pabulum**_, noun:_ 1. food; especially: a suspension or solution of nutrients in a state suitable for absorption.

"Captain, are you ready? I have brought **pabulum**." Spock called as he entered Captain Pike's quarters. It was Wednesday evening. Pike had insisted on the weekly meetings to discuss the progress of the Enterprise and any other pressing matters in more relaxed settings than his office.

"Intellectual or nutritional variety?" Had Spock not been Vulcan and adept at suppressing emotional responses he would have been startled. He turned to face a young tan woman on his right. She was studying him intently as if she was genuinely seeking an answer to her question.

"Nutritional. Where is Captain Pike?" The girl grinned at Spock and did not seem dissuaded at all by the Vulcan's lack of response to her enthusiasm.

"He should be back any moment. I'm just his lowly assistant. On my way out, I might add, you can go on in and simply forget my existence." Spock raised and eyebrow at the young girl's comments. Much of Terran humor escaped him so he was unsure of the appropriate response to this statement.

"I do not belive it possible to simply forget the existence of a person I have met. I apologize if this displeases you and willl strive to do as you ask." She seemed to be stifling laughter and nodded at the tall handsome Vulcan.

"That would be most agreeable." She delivered the line with mock seriousness and Spock was sure that she was teasing him. She grabbed a PADD from the table and headed towards the door and exited the quarters with a near silent swish of the door.

Spock had no recollection of how long he stood holding the bag of food before Pike found him. Pike gave Spock a knowing look.

"I see you've met my assistant."

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**pabulum**_, noun:_ 2. intellectual sustenance.

"Professor, that's incorrect." Spock could practically hear the tension in the classroom when the girl spoke. He turned for the first time to study the cadet fully.

"What is your name?" She held his gaze without fear or doubt.

"Uhura, sir. Cadet Uhura." Spock processed the name and stuck it in his memory. Attached it to the large brown eyes, long brown hair, and warm brown skin of the woman-child in the front row of the class.

"Please elaborate Cadet Uhura." She swallowed and he thought that he had his victory. Surely, this girl who had the uniform of a first year was going to give some story about how a relative of hers told her differently or he would find that she had misinterpreted a story she had heard.

"Sir, recently, scientists have discovered that the plants of that planet previously thought to only be poisonous to humanoid life forms are only poisonous when injested, but when used as a topical treatment, many of the plants exceed any healing properties of plants the Federation had previously known existed." Spock began to correct her when she spoke once more.

"It was in The Scientist this month. I would be happy to lend you a copy if you don't have your own." Snickers and comments were being mumbled throughout the class. Divided between two factions. One that thought she was being intentionally insolent and that Spock was going to make her life a living hell and the other was that she was a brown noser, but wasting her time on someone as fair and right minded as Spock. A glance to the other students was enough to quiet their murmurings.

Spock studied the girl for several moments. Her expression showed no fear, but no insolence as well. He made a mental note to seek more information on the cadet who had so brazenly challenged him in front of the entire class. He continued his lecture without further comment on the incident, but he did wonder how he had missed this update in the science community? He did not even normally teach this class. It was an introductory biology course normally taught by another professor, but due to illness it was requested that he cover this class today.

He knew that he had been spending a lot of time improving the _Kobayashi Maru_, but Spock had wanted it to be perfect. He knew, logically, perfection was a standard that could never be achieved, but that did not excuse not trying to reach that level. It was obvious now that if first year cadets were correcting him in an introductory biology course then he was not spending adequate time on his subject matter. Needing less sleep than humans he deemed that he would sleep only a few hours a night until he had completely updated himself on the science community. With a solution to his problem Spock was able to complete the lesson with no further distractions.

He dismissed the class when he had completed his lecture and gathered his PADD and communicator from the desk. When he turned he found that the classroom was empty except Cadet Uhura who was still sitting in her seat in the front row and looking at him. He waited and when she did not immediately speak he decided to speak first.

"Cadet Uhura, did you have an inquiry?" She stood and grasped her bag in both hands and moved towards him. She reached into her bag and pulled out her PADD and a cord. She motioned towards the PADD Spock held in his hand in a silent request for permission to connect his PADD with hers. Spock held his PADD out so that she could connect the cord.

She waited and when her PADD indicated the file transfer to be complete she stored it and the cord safely back in her bag. She nodded at the professor and turned heading up the aisle to the doors to exit. When she reached the door she stopped and turned around as if she knew Spock would still be waiting there.

"Professor, you know, I'm probably making a mistake saying this to a Vulcan, but **pabulum** isn't everything. I hear you program the _Kobayashi Maru_. I wouldn't worry too much about an introductory biology class. Besides, what does a smart mouth little first year know about biology anyway?" She smiled slightly and exited leaving Spock in a classroom that suddenly felt emptier than it ever had before.

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**pabulum**_, noun: _3. something (as writing or speech) that is insipid, simplistic, or bland.

As an instructor at the prestigious Starfleet Academy being impartial was a part of his every day life. Grading a student simply on the merits of the individual work and not on a dislike or like for the student as a person was the norm. Deviating from the norm was of course, taboo, and likely to result in at least, a blemish on one's record and at worst, a possible dismissal not only from teaching, but from service to the Federation entirely. Shame would be brought not only on himself, but on his entire family, especially his ambassador father, and even to his race.

These facts would, logically, be enough to keep Spock from temptation, but when grading for this particular cadet he had to constantly fight his own views of appropriate instructor to student behavior. Changing an answer was inappropriate. Removing a sentence from a paragraph would be unforgivable. No. He must give the cadet the grade they deserved. Naturally, highest marks. This cadet always received astounding grades and that was what trouble Spock. How did Cadet Kirk do it? It was only logical that with the cadet's constant philandering that he would receive **pabulum**.

With his exceptional hearing nothing anyone spoke within seventy-five feet of the instructor was secret ergo, Spock knew all the details of this particular cadet's escapades. Drinking, gambling, fighting, womanizing. Not a single redeeming or amiable quality in the man and yet, he seemed to be popular among the students while he, honest, hardworking, punctual, and loyal had found it nearly impossible to find a friend in his first years here.

Frustrating though it may be Spock found that even the knowledge of Cadet Kirk's unlikely camaraderie with nearly the entire student body did not disturb him. Nor did the fact that he was always smiling. Always a wide grin, especially when he spoke with Spock. Spock always felt it was the cadet's way of showing his supremacy. Intellectually, economically, and in rank Spock surpassed the cadet with ease, but in human characteristics such as humor, affection, and emotions Spock was woefully inadequate and Cadet Kirk knew it. His smile was a way of saying, _Go ahead and assign me a huge paper. I'll turn it in. It will be genius and I'll have partied most of the night away. Oh, and here's a parting shot. *SMILE* Just because you can't._

Spock loathed that smile. Especially the day he happened across Cadet Kirk testing it on Nyota Uhura. The young Xenolingusitics prodigy he had recently begun to court.

Crossing the quad of Starfleet on the many intersecting sidewalks Spock noticed Nyota in the distance. Although he was headed to a meeting with Captain Pike a quick reference to his internal clock relayed that he had enough time to stop and greet Nyota before he continued. He would be remiss in not acknowledging her presence when he sensed her. This he knew from experience.

Nyota was sitting on a bench with her back to Spock. Her long black mane was down today and it cascaded over her shoulder hiding her face from view, but no matter. Spock would know Nyota from any angle. From any distance. She was positioned in what Spock thought must be uncomfortably close quarters with her Orion roommate and best friend. What was her name? Ah yes, Gaila. Engineering track. With their heads pressed together they seemed to be pouring over a PADD and giggling while talking over each other.

Spock had just drawn close enought to the pair to make his presence known without raising his voice when Cadet Kirk appeared from the left with the older recruit, McCoy, trailing behind looking as frustrated as Spock felt. Approaching the ladies with a decidedly confident swagger Cadet Kirk grabbed the PADD from the girls, who nearly screeched in indignation, and then began to study it with intensity.

"Oh, lingerie, and expensive to boot! Now, now, this can't be for you Gaila, I've seen everything you own and with those pheromones of yours you could wear gym shorts and men would consider it erotic. So it must be for you Sugar Lips. Don't tell me that Commander Spock likes this stuff. I mean, do Vulcans even get aroused or don't they consider that illogical?" Spock had by this time dropped back to eavesdrop behind a cluster of students discussing their plans for the impending weekend.

"Several things Kirk. First, it's none of your business which one of us the lingerie is for. Second, arousal isn't illogical. It's a natural state of being for the human or Vulcan body. However, mindlessly humping everything that can't outrun you, now that's illogical. Although, hats off to you for avoiding that nasty case of warts that was floating around campus. I guess you can remember to wrap it before you attack. In any case, what Spock and I do is none of your concern. Besides, I don't think your fragile juvenile mind could handle the mental images that descriptions would conjure up." Plucking the PADD deftly from a stunned Cadet Kirk, Nyota bent and retrieved her back from the foot of the bench.

"Now, I have class. Nice to see you Leonard. Gaila, I'll see you back at the dorm." She turned and exited the scene quickly. Hair swishing behind her as perfect punctuation to the verbal beating she had just delivered to the still stunned young man.

Spock shook himself and continued on to his meeting with Captain Pike. He only took a moment to note in his PADD that Cadet Kirk's assignment apparently had not been turned in. Unfortunately, Spock accepted no late work and seeing as that project was thirty percent of the cadet's final grade that was most unfortunate. Spock almost felt a twinge of guilt for the abuse of power. Toying with a cadet's grades out of spite might be what some considered a reaction to jealousy. They would be wrong. He comforted himself with the thought that, as a Vulcan, he did not feel emotions. He felt more logical already.


	4. Thursday

**Thank you for everyone who has reviewed so far. Both good and bad. We're over half way there! Only three more days left. :( **

**To those who were disappointed in Tych'al. Being of mixed ancestry (black and white) I don't want anyone to think that I am racist or prefer any race of people over another. Nor do I want it believed that I don't value Nyota Uhura. Rather, I just wanted the baby to be entirely Vulcan in appearance and more importantly a mini Spock. I'm sorry to anyone who was offended or upset.**

**Also, I did not mean to imply that all Vulcans were "white." I don't think of Vulcans in the same race categories that I consider Terrans because they are an alien species. I did change one of the lines in chapter two though so that it said that he had the same skin as his father rather than a Vulcan to quell any confusion on that point.**

**Finally, I had intended to work into the drabbles a girl that ended up exactly like Uhura with seemingly no influence from Spock and find a humorous and intelligent way for Spock and McCoy to explain her. That is actually how my brother and I turned out. We look like dad and mom respectively and one of us is "white" and the other is "black", but now I think it would seem like I was just doing it to prove that I'm not racist so I won't be going down that path. **

**I hope that Tych'al being Vulcan or human, like his father or mother, black or white, does not affect your enjoyment of this story too much. Okay, that's enough, soap box stored. Read on! :)**

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**pukka**_, adjective: _genuine, authentic.

Being half-Vulcan provided Spock the luxury, or curse, of not needing to sleep nearly as much as a human. However, it had been exactly 3 days, 4 hours, 17 minutes, and 32 seconds since he had slept. He had nearly reached his breaking point, but he did not want to abandon his console until it was entirely repaired and calibrated to his satisfaction. The ion storm had damaged many of the consoles on the bridge. Spock's science station had suffered the most damage and consequently had taken much longer to repair and calibrate properly.

Finally, he had completed the last test and turned to request leave from the bridge from his captain.

"Captain..." Jim Kirk held his right hand up in signal for Spock to stop speaking.

"Spock, you are the only crew member that hasn't slept in over three days. Now, Uhura has been on me constantly to speak with you because apparently, you informed her that you respected her opinions and were honored by her concern as your wife, but that you wouldn't leave the bridge until you had finished repairing the science station. Right?" Spock turned to fully face the captain rather than continuing to address him over his shoulder.

"Yes Captain. That is correct." Kirk signed a PADD his yeoman handed him and directed his attention back to his first officer.

"And are you done now? I mean, is the station all fixed. Passed all your tests with flying colors?" Spock being accustom to the many metaphors and unusual phrases of speech the captain used could deduce the question's meaning without fully understanding Kirk.

"Yes." Kirk nodded and smirked at Spock.

"Good, then get the hell off my bridge and don't come back for at least two days." Spock headed to the turbolift and requested deck four. When he arrived at the residence her shared with Nyota, his wife of only three months. he entered and noticed immediately that the lights were dim. No, the lights were not dim. All the light in their quarters seemed to be coming from their bedroom. Spock moved quickly to the room to deduce the cause of the unusual lighting.

Nyota was waiting. Sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed she was waiting for him. She was wearing one of Spock's Starfleet Academy gym shirts and a pair of Spock's boxers. She had taken to wearing his clothing shortly after their relationship had been physically consummated. Although, he had to acknowledge it was completely illogical, Spock enjoyed the sight of her in his clothing and would often wear the shirt she slept in to work out in the mornings so that he could smell her intoxicating scent.

Several clusters of candles covered both Spock and Nyota's night stands. She smiled at her husband in greeting.

"You're home." Normally, the Terran tendency for stating the obvious was an annoyance to Spock, but instead he found comfort in her words. He must be more tired than he thought. Moving to his wife he used what little energy he had left to control himself so that he would not attack her with his need.

He leaned over her and kissed her skillfully. Exploring her mouth so as to learn all the things he had forgotten in their time apart and to remind her of his claim to her. She moaned somewhere deep and her throat and Spock swore he felt the vibration all the way to his toes. He leaned farther over her forcing Nyota to lay back on the bed. Spock was hovering over her. His hand moved to the top of the boxers to pull them down. She gripped his hand and pulled her mouth away from his.

"Wait." She breathlessly moved from underneath him suddenly and Spock would have been worried if he could not sense through their bond her arousal, love, and excitement. She grasped Spock's hand and he gave her is full attention.

"Do you know what today is?" Spock wracked his brain for significance. It was not their anniversary and Nyota was not prone to remembering dates that did not have some signifigance.

"Spock! It's your birthday! You're 29!" If Spock had been human he might have groaned instead he simply stared at Nyota.

"Yes, I am 29 Terran years old, however, Vulcans do not celebrate birthdays." Nyota smiled at Spock and climbed back onto the bed stradling her husband.

"That's true, but this unlucky Vulcan chose to marry a very emotional and illogical human who thinks silly things like birthdays are very important and happened to get him a gift." Spock's hands rested on Nyota's thighs as he gazed into her eyes.

"Very well. As your logical Vulcan husband and in the interest of keeping the peace I will appreciate the thoughtful gesture." Nyota nearly squealed with excitement as she launched off Spock and moved to the closet. She carefully reached behind Spock's ceremonial Vulcan robes that he never had occasion to wear on the Enteriprse and removed a Vulcan lute.

Spock sat up on the bed and simply stared at the lute for a long moment before slowly moving towards Nyota. She handed the instrument to him and he took it with such gentleness and reverance that she knew she had gotten him the perfect gift.

"Nyota, this is a **pukka **Vulcan lute. Where did you get this?" Nyota sat on the edge of the bed and watched her husband study the instrument for some time.

"One day when I was listening to "space chatter" I heard someone mention a Vulcan lute that had survived after the events with Nero. Very few of them were still around and I knew yours had been lost forever so, I contacted that ship. Turns out, the captain of that ship had not seen a woman in some time and he also had beaten his entire crew at 3-D chess and was anxious for a new opponent. I convinced Kirk to let him beam over to the Enterprise to play and bring the lute in case I won." Spock raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"And if he had won?" She shrugged.

"I knew that wouldn't happen. Remember that day when you were on the bridge and I was off duty? I kept sending you chess moves through the link?"

"Yes, you said that you were bored and you set up the chessboard in our room and would move my pieces as I requested. It was an easy victory, although, more difficult that our usual games. 3-D chess is not one of your areas of excellence." Nyota laughed heartily.

"Don't I know it! Okay, so I might have cheated. The moves I was supposedly making in your head were really his moves so I was making all your moves. Let's just say he wasn't pleased when he lost, but couldn't argue. Said he'd never seen someone play the game so logically before. So, really, you won your own birthday present." Spock graced Nyota with a small smile as he gently laid the lute on his desk.

"Then perhaps you should give me something else since this is really a gift from myself to myself." Nyota had a pretty good idea of what to give him and this gift was sure to satisfy both his wants and needs.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**I KNOW...THIS IS ONLY ONE LITTLE SHOT AND IT ISN'T TOO TERRIBLY LONG. DON'T BLAME ME. BLAME THE WORD A DAY CALENDAR. I JUST DO WHAT IT SAYS. I DON'T CHOOSE THE WORDS, JUST THE PLOT. REVIEWS=HAPPY DANCES. (FOR ME ANYWAY) :)**


	5. Friday

**Okay, so, I cheated a little bit today. There is actually a secondary definition to the word of the day today, but after I wrote this piece I just didn't think I could write something else that felt the same. I know, it's two days in a row of a one-shot and I should have written the other definition, but I hope after you read this then you'll understand why I didn't. Short too. :( **

**Three things before you read:**

**1. Possible angst warning. Just be prepared for the fact that it's not all bunnies and rainbows. However, it's not as depressing as it could be.**

**2. Spock is characterized this way for a reason. He is nothing, if not logical and from the beginning he's already formulating his plan for the conclusion so he is not emotional. He still loves Nyota. Please, read it and trust me?**

**3. Thanks so much to all the people who showed support for my dilemma with the Tych'al. And another thanks to the people who still don't like it, but continue to read the story and enjoy it anyway. **

**:)**

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**incarnadine**_, adjective: _red; blood-red.

**Incarnadine**. Crimson. Burgundy. Cerise. Vermilion. Red. Blood. It took Spock precisely seven words to understand it was blood that he was seeing.

Jade. Olive. Chartreuse. Celadon. Emerald. Harlequin. Blood. It took Spock precisely seven words to understand it wasn't his blood that he was seeing.

Nyota. His beautiful Nyota was looking rather pale. He noted her face, stuck in a look of surprise. Small wrinkles around her eyes and across her forehead indicated her pain. He could feel the dull roar of her agony in his mind, but she was using what little strength she had left to try to shield him from it. Moving down her frame he noted the awkward angle at which her arm and shoulder were twisted, the two rods that protruded through her body and left her somewhat suspended, and the limpness with which her long, beautiful legs dangled.

A monotonous drip of scarlet onto silver as her blood emptied from her body onto the shuttle floor. Where had they been headed? Ah, yes, to Starfleet to give a presentation on their newest discoveries. He remembered the warning indicator and then the plummeting to the Earth quickly. Nyota working hard beside him as they attempted to escape the imminent crash. Then, impact. Pain. Blackness. And the sangria of her body all around him.

Rich and full bodied like the after dinner drink they sometimes shared. He could smell the iron. She was losing too much blood too quickly. He would not be able to save her. The previously dull roar in the back of his mind was making itself known more forcefully. She was losing the energy to protect him from her pain.

"Nyota." He moved toward her cautiously. Slowly, carefully, like the first time he had kissed her. Except this time the scarlet wasn't on her lips. It was running down her arm and pooling beneath her head. Body bent back at an angle that he was sure proved to be most uncomfortable.

Her mouth soundlessly moved to form the syllables of his name, but nothing issued forth. No matter. Sound was unnecessary.

"Nyota, you are dying." She swallowed so thickly it was deafening in the shuttle that would become her tomb. He reached for her hand and grasped it. The squishing of her pooling blood beneath his boots and between his fingers was of no consequence.

"Ashayam, how can I serve you?" He could sense her fear through their bond and her urgency. She wanted to feel him. To know that he was there. That he would not forget her. He let his love for her fill him so that it would comfort her and with a sickening gurgle of fluids she was gone. Spock released her hand immediately and wiped the blood on his shirt. Cleanliness was no matter now.

He reached for her frame and carefully lifted her off of the spikes. He mentally did the calculations to perfect his plan and laid her carefully on the floor as his figures dictated. Turning her broke off the end of one of the spike's and giving one last loving thought to his Nyota, the only woman he had ever loved, he drove the stake into his side. Directly into his Vulcan heart. He did not need it without his human wife.

He fell to his knees and then directly beside her. Large, muscular arm draped across her petite frame, protecting and seeking her even in death.

Mahogany. Ochre. Sepia. Auburn. Chocolate. Bistre. Nyota. It took Spock precisely seven words to understand that he had been dreaming and they were still alive.

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**Is it sick that as soon as I saw word of the day I thought Romeo and Juliet and then the example they used for it was a Shakespearean sonnet? I couldn't resist the impossible, and slightly creepy, romance of the classic murder/suicide, but it also just felt incomplete until I added the last two lines, so what do you know? They're alive after all. :) **


	6. Saturday

**Here is Saturday...sorry it was late...long story, but that means you'll get Sunday today as well. Two for one...yay! :)**

**raffish**_, adjective: _characterized by or suggestive of flashy vulgarity, crudeness, or rowdiness; tawdry.

Spock had always considered strip clubs or any other form of "entertainment" that treated female lifeforms as sexual objects as **raffish** and uncouth. He was, therefore, rather surprised when Nyota showed up at his quarters on a a Friday night wearing a trench coat. Her motives initially were not entirely clear.

"Nyota. May I take your coat? I was not aware that it had begun to rain." She smiled at him slightly and rather than turning so that he could remove the coat with his already outstretched arms sauntered further into his quarters without comment.

Spock followed in a confused state as she entered the bedroom. She paused in the center of the room and fixed him with a sultry gaze.

"Sit." Her husky demand was not unwelcome, but he was still unsure as to what was happening. He moved around her to the bed and sat at precisely the center of the foot. His feet pressed perfectly together and hands folded serenely in his lap. Waiting. Nyota did not turn to face him.

Slowly her body began to move in a rhythm that Spock could not hear. Swaying gently from side to side and then suddenly she turned to face him and reaching up removed the bun from her hair. Her long hair, that he noted had been styled in ascetically pleasing waves fell to her waist. He swallowed thickly, suddenly all too aware of where this seemed to be heading.

Never ceasing the undulations of her body which were now becoming increasingly pronounced and were increasing in difficulty she slowly untied the coat and revealed her clothing underneath. Lack of clothing may have been a more appropriate phrase.

What was the point of a top that was entirely sheer and how did a pair of underwear that appeared to have no covering for her buttocks serve any purpose? When he felt the beast within him roar at the sight of his mate thus attired his logical brain was soothed with a logical answer.

Suddenly she turned writhed in a snake-like fashion to the floor and then raised herself rear first, while bending the top half over. Spock snapped and his hands which had previously been clenched in front of him grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed with him. He would have to meditate on his previous opinions of such entertainment. Later. Much later.

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**raffish**_, adjective: _marked by a carefree unconventionality or disreputableness; rakish.

Arguments fueled by anger were pointless. A waste of energy and time. Nyota did not agree and had, after a particular disagreeable seven minutes spent with his girlfriend becoming increasingly exasperated, stormed out of his quarters informing him that she was "going out" with Gaila.

One jar of peanut butter, seventeen student PADDs, forty-five minutes spent in meditation and Spock was no less upset than when she had first left him. He knew that Nyota did not like having him treat her so ambivalently in public. Spock and Nyota had no real need to hide their relationship since Nyota was not, currently, and had not ever been in a position for Spock to affect her standing at Starfleet Academy.

Nyota had wanted Spock to be more open with their relationship while in the presence of others and Spock had, politely, declined. Nyota had countered that it was less of a request and more or a statement of how things needed to be. Spock had remarked on the illogicality of that statement and Nyota eyes had narrowed and she was out his door before he could fully process her parting sentence about Gaila, dancing, and her favorite club.

Now, Spock stood outside of the establishment Nyota and Gaila frequented and began to have serious doubts about the safety of his girlfriend. The building and clientele both seemed to be of the **raffish** variety. Surely Nyota did not mean here? Then he saw her. Arms linked with Gaila as they giggled and spilled out of the bar.

Clearly inebriated the girls seemed about to lose themselves to a fit of hysterical laughter when several young men followed them outside. Words passed between the two groups. Spock was far enough away and the music from the club pulsating loud and repetitious so as to make it nearly impossible to hear what they were saying, but by the look on Nyota's face she was growing weary of their persistence.

Finally Nyota stepped into the face of the apparent leader. Saying something to him and his counterparts through clenched teeth she turned and grabbed Gaila's hand to flounce away when the offended man grasped her upper arm and whipped her around to face him. Gaila appeared to be extremely worried. Nyota was simultaneously, pissed beyond belief and scared to death. She did not flinch or look away, but rather looked at her attacker in such a way as to make it seem that she had him right where she wanted him to be.

Spock moved quickly never taking his eyes off of the scene enfolding in front of him. Sidestepping a pair of cadets who appeared to be engaging in some activities that were inappropriate for public he reached the small group just as the young man raised his arm. Grasping the man's forearm carefully so as to stop the motion, but not to break it he placed himself slightly in front of Nyota.

"What the hell man? Who are you?" Spock did not look at Nyota, but he could literally feel her relief rolling off of her.

"Is there a problem I should be made aware of?" The young man finally yanked his arm to release it from Spock's grasp and Spock allowed him to pull free.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but this little _bitch_ and her green friend used our tab all night long and then just bailed. They owe us." Spock nodded in understanding.

"I see. How many credits did they use?" The man was still rubbing his arm, but he was looking at Spock in a most bemused fashion.

"It's not about the credits. I don't know how things are on Vulcan, but on Earth, if a guy buys you drinks all night he expects something in return. If you know what I mean..." The unattractive leer on the man's face made his meaning perfectly clear.

"I see, however, I regret to inform you that the reimbursement of any credits spent on the ladies is the only item you will be receiving tonight. Nyota, my girlfriend, and Gaila, her best friend, do tend to act before thinking. I find the behavior most illogical, but I assure you the ladies will not repeat this error in judgement." Casting a glance at the girls who were huddled safely now a few feet from the gentlemen Spock noticed that they did, at least, look contrite.

"Look man, whatever, just give me seventy credits and I'll forget all about this crazy night." Spock quickly provided the man with the credits and stood watching him and his friends disappear back into the bar. When he was sure that they were gone and were not going to return he turned to the girls who were standing quietly on the sidewalk waiting.

Moving to them he took Nyota's hand and indicated they all begin walking in the direction of Starfleet. Gaila had the grace to move slightly ahead of Spock and Nyota so that they could keep her in their line of vision, but still have some privacy.

"You called me your girlfriend." Spock said nothing although Nyota was positive that he heard her.

"You're holding my hand for anyone to see." Spock still did not comment so Nyota didn't speak again. She feared he was angry with her for the scene back at the club. If there was one thing Spock hated it was a public scene. A mix of his mother's sereneness, his father being an ambassador, and Spock suffering through enough public disturbances at school during his formative years ensured that Spock did not like them.

Spock suddenly stopped walking and Nyota paused when she felt the tug on her arm. She turned to look at him. Waiting for an explanation.

"I have been informed that when a man spends a certain amount of credits on a woman he may expect something in return. I think this would be especially true if the woman was already in a relationship with the man." Nyota wrapped her arms around Spock and smiled at him.

"That sounds pretty accurate. And wait until you see what seventy credits gets you."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**Review? :) One more chapter. :(**


	7. Sunday

**It has been a rather short journey, but definitely fun. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me and read the whole set. I hope that it turned out okay. For those of you who are reading No Hatfields, Just McCoys it should be up and completed by Tuesday or Wednesday night at the latest. **

**VULCAN DEFINITIONS: **

**Shikh-orna**- council

**Sa-mekh**- father

**Ko-mekh**- mother

**Stariben kan**- Speak child

**sa'mekh'al**- grandfather

**kevet-dutar**- ambassador

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**intrepid**_, adjective:_ resolutely courageous; fearless.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Nyota Uhura would have been on her feet in outrage if her husband's calming presence hadn't entered her mind and interceded. A gentle, warning _Ashayam_ calmed her enough to keep her from standing and exiting the room in outrage, but it would not prevent speaking what was on her mind. Nothing could stop that. Not a warship full of Klingons and certainly not a few old Vulcans at a table.

"Lady Nyota. In light of Spock's, Sarek's, and even your accomplishments we have allowed your son into this school, but it has become apparent to us that he is not able to meet the rigorous demands a Vulcan education would place on his mind."

"His human mind you mean? My son is gifted. Beyond many of your children's Vulcan minds and he can pass all of his tests with ease." The elders did not seemed surprised by her display of anger and if any expression could be read on their faces it would be one that conveyed their dismay at her lack of emotional control after having lived on New Vulcan for two years.

"My wife means to inquire as to the nature of this conclusion. Has my son's work been completed poorly or not been completed in the allotted time?" Sy'chn, the elder providing of these proceedings turned to Spock.

"It is not that he does not complete the work assigned or that he is incapable of completing his assignments. The problem is rather that he does not fit the academic mold of a traditional Vulcan school. He queries after every question placed to him." Spock did not respond, but looked deep in thought.

"So you're throwing him out because he asks questions? He's a child. That's how they learn."

T'Pring, who had remained silent until now, responded to Nyota this time.

"Perhaps that is how Terran children learn, but not Vulcan children." Nyota fixed the Vulcan woman with a glare.

"Yes, I know all about how Vulcan children learn. Holes in the ground that bombard them with question after question and they are expected to simply regurgitate answers with no thought as to why or how." If T'Pring was not versed in controlling her emotions she would have sneered at the human woman's emotional outburst.

"You speak of our education system with disdain, but our children surpass even the most brilliant of your children with ease. It is not for you to go against hundreds of years of tradition." This time Spock's calming presence would not stop Nyota. She launched for her chair and very nearly went for T'Pring.

"You vengeful, hateful woman! You're doing this because he left you and you can't stand that he chose a human over you. He's never going to want you! And I think using a child in your personal vendetta against me is sick." T'Pring did not flinch at the comments, but wondered how a inferior life form could sense so much. She had never told her thoughts to anyone.

"That is illogical. I would have to be emotionally involved in the situation to make such an irrational decision and I do not allow emotions to influence my life." Nyota snorted in derision.

"No one allows emotions do anything. That's why they're illogical. You can't rationalize them. If you don't control them they control you. Isn't that what you believe?" T'Pring opened her mouth to respond when a small, but steady voice spoke.

"Shikh-orna, Sa-mekh, Ko-mekh, if I may speak?" Seven sets of eyes turned to the small child seated next to his father. Tych'al, although only eight Terran years old, seemed completely comfortable with the adult's intense focus on him. Spock grasped Nyota's wrist and tugged gently so that she resumed her seat on his other side.

"Stariben kan." Sy'chn invited.

"I find that both my mother and my father would like for me to remain in a standard Vulcan educational atmosphere. The council would like for me to change to an education that would be more conducive for my unique condition." Nyota opened her mouth to speak but Spock squeezed her wrist gently.

"Often, when I cannot find the solution to a problem I will ask my mother who, if she does not have an answer that resolves my issue, will send me to my father. My father often makes use of a diplomatic device that my sa'mekh'al used as an ambassador for Vulcan. I believe it is called a compromise. In the use of this device the parties involved come to understanding whereby both sides must give up something to receive part of what they want." The adults had not interrupted so Tych'al continued his **intrepid** speech.

"I respectfully suggest that the council and my parents meet a compromise on the issue of my education." Tych'al finished speaking and resumed his perfect posture and waited for the adults to pass their judgment on his idea.

"Thank you Tych'al. That was most enlightening and eloquently spoken. Perhaps you will be the kevet-dutar to Earth as your sa'mekh'al was and your father is." Tych'al raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of his father.

"Perhaps. After I retire from Starfleet."

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**REVIEWS IF YOU PLEASE! :) **


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